


Clammy Palms

by Phandabbydosey



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, Chronic Illness, First Meetings, Hyperhydrosis, Illnesses, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, ill!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9361049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phandabbydosey/pseuds/Phandabbydosey
Summary: Dan has hyperhidrosis (excessive sweating) in his hands and feet and it’s always made him self-conscious. How will he manage to keep it hidden from Phil when they meet for the first time?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written (a long time ago) for a close friend :D  
> Also, my tumblr is phandabbydosey if you would rather read this over there!

I wiped my hands for what seemed like the millionth time on the fabric of my jeans, feeling my leg bouncing up and down as I did so. I was so nervous and it was making everything about ten times worse.

I was sitting on the train, listening as the recorded voice announced that we were about to arrive at Manchester Piccadilly. I scrunched my toes, internally sighing as I felt how damp the fabric of my socks was. I’d been dealing with this for years, but it didn’t make it any less annoying.

I suffered from hyperhidrosis severely in my feet and hands. This meant I sweated excessively, to the point where I’d have to constantly wipe my hands and change my socks multiple times a day. It was a constant problem but was intensified by high temperatures and anxiety.

It’d been awful during my school years, stuck in a heavy uniform in the stifling school buildings all day. During exams I’d leave wet marks on the paper and smudge my writing (which wasn’t helped at all by the fact I was left handed), I kept having to sneak into the toilets to change my socks between lessons and I always left sweaty fingerprints all over the computer keyboards.

Eventually, my mum took me to the doctors and, after no abnormalities in my blood and urine samples, I was diagnosed with hyperhidrosis and began a treatment called iontophoresis. This involved me holding my hands and feet in a tray of water while and electric current was passed through it a few times a week. It sounds painful, but it really; it just felt like my skin was being prodded with thousands of tiny needles. I’d gotten a few burns from it too, but they weren’t too bad and only a couple had left a lasting scar on my skin.

The treatment didn’t make the sweating go away, but it did help make it a little bit more manageable. It stopped me sweating quite so profusely, though I still had to carry around spare socks and my fingers still got wet enough to stop me being able to easily use the touch screen on my phone.

Even though the treatment helped, my sweating was just as bad as it always had been when I got nervous. And I’d never been more nervous than I had been on the day I first met Phil. I adored him and was already so conscious of what Phil thought of me. I was certain he’d be freaked out if I found out about how disgusting and sweaty my hands and feet got.

I wiped my hands once more before climbing out of the train, my suitcase trundling along behind me as I scanned the crowd for Phil. All of my concerns momentarily vanished as I finally saw those amazing eyes in real life, lit up in a bright smile as their owner waved excitedly and practically ran towards me.

I suddenly found myself enveloped in the warmest hug I’d ever been given and I slowly hugged back, curling my hands into fists so my clammy palms didn’t touch Phil’s back.

“It’s so nice to finally hug you,” I heard murmured into my ear, making me giggle like a little girl.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too.”

 

—————————————————–

 

The rest of that day passed smoothly. Phil and I easily fell into conversation, both of us laughing and grinning almost non-stop. Once we got to Phil’s we just relaxed, playing games on the Xbox and eating junk food. Thankfully, I was able to subtly wipe the wetness off the controller I was using and escape to change my socks on the pretence of going to the toilet. We talked about nothing important, ate rubbish food and soon enough, we were both ready to sleep.

“Are you okay to share a bed?” Phil asked once I’d come back from brushing my teeth, “If not, my mum will go get the camp bed for me and you can have mine.”

I was torn. Phil looked so hopeful and it was obvious he wanted to share the bed. I had no idea what impression it would give off if I declined but…my feet got really bad overnight, habitually creating what were essentially puddles of sweat around my feet as I slept. Phil would never want to get near me again.

“No, sharing sounds great,” I forced a smile. I’d just have to double layer my socks and hope they could absorb everything.

Phil looked so pleased though, it was almost worth all the worry. Even if Phil did find out, at least I’d got to spend this time with him.

 

—————————————————————

 

Luckily, my feet seemed to be feeling merciful and I awoke to slightly damp socks but dry bed sheets. Phil was still fast asleep so I slipped out of the bed and into the bathroom, grabbing another pair of socks as I went.

“I just went to the loo,” I said with a smile when I returned to find a pair of confused blue eyes looking at me from the bed.

“Okay, come back to bed then,” Phil commanded with a giggle, pulling the duvet back to give me room, “You told me you hated getting up early.”

“It’s ten o’clock Phil, hardly early,” I rolled my eyes, discreetly wiping my hands on the duvet as I climbed into the bed and pulled it back over me, “And unless you’d rather me wet the bed, I think you should stop your moaning.”

Phil just laughed and stuck his tongue out, rolling over to lay his head on my pillow. He looked into my eyes, making my cheeks heat up and my hands start to moisten. I licked my lips nervously and glanced down at Phil’s rose coloured ones, his pale complexion giving them a very pastel tone. They looked soft too and I felt a strong urge to press my lips against them.

It didn’t have to yearn for long because, before I knew it, the lips I longed to kiss were pressed against mine. It was a sweet, short kiss but left me breathless nonetheless.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Phil said quickly when I didn’t say anything straight away, his eyes lowering slightly and a light blush dusting his cheeks, “Just say if you didn’t like it, I don’t mind just being friends and-”

“Phil,” I cut him off gently, leaning forward and pecking his lips with a big smile on my face, “I’ve been wanting you to do that since I saw you on the train platform.”

 

————————————————–

 

We kissed a lot of after that, little pecks as we got dressed and had breakfast and longer, lingering kisses as we were sat on the bus into Manchester. I managed to keep my hands firmly on my lap though, still convinced that Phil would sickened by my condition.

I managed to keep my aversion tactful until we left the cafe where we’d stopped for lunch and Phil decided he wanted to hold my hand. I could’ve been so much more careful; pretended to scratch my nose or something to avoid the touch. But I didn’t think that fast and messed up.

I snatched my hand away with a gasp, looking over at Phil without even attempting to hide the panic on my face.

I didn’t miss the look of hurt that crossed Phil’s face before the concern took over, concern that he’d hurt me or made me uncomfortable when really I wanted nothing more than to be able to hold his hand. But I knew that I couldn’t

“I-I…Phil, I’m-”

“Don’t worry Dan, you only have to tell me if things go too fast,” Phil said, the kindness in his voice making me want to cry. Phil was so perfect, too perfect for a sweaty little screw-up like me, “I want you to be comfortable.”

He leant down to give me another gentle kiss on the cheek and I knew I couldn’t keep this up. Phil was being so kind and accommodating, even though it was obvious he’d been hurt by the rejection, and I just kept lying to him. He deserved the truth and he deserved to have the choice on whether he wanted me to leave or not.

I felt the sweat dewing in my palms as my dread peaked.

“No, Phil. You…I’m sorry, it’s nothing to do with you. I-I really want to hold your hand but…”

I sighed deeply and closed my eyes before reaching out and wrapping my hand around Phil’s. I didn’t need to be looking to know his eyes widened when he felt my sodden palms, “I have hyperhidrosis. It’s means I sweat a lot in my hands and feet. I didn’t want you to know because it’s disgusting and I-I didn’t want you to start hating me. I’m really sorry for lying, I just really like you and didn’t want you to think I was gross.”

I kept my eyes closed as I waited for Phil’s reaction, my sweaty hand still being held by Phil’s. I momentarily thought he was going to take it well and tell me it was fine, but then I heard an all too familiar sound.

Laughter. Phil was laughing at me because I was vile and obnoxious.

At least I was in town so I could easily walk to the train station and get home.

I was just about to pull my hand away and run off to cry before buying a new ticket to get home when I felt Phil’s hand moving. He laced his fingers with my slippery ones and gave my hand a soft squeeze.

“You’re an idiot Dan,” he said, though the tone of his voice was too light and loving for the words to hurt as much as they usually would. I was surprised and opened my eyes to see Phil’s warm smile, reassuring me that maybe things weren’t too bad. He lifted my hand and, despite the obvious sheen of sweat, kissed it tenderly, “Do you really think I would hate you over something that you can’t help?”

I nodded timidly, looking down at the way Phil lovingly held my hand and then looked back up to Phil’s eyes.

“Dan, I’ve fallen for you,” Phil admitted, moving closer and smiling, “I’ve fallen for the amazing and funny and beautiful boy that I’ve been talking to over Skype for months and have finally got to meet in person. Just because your hands get clammier than usual and you have constantly soggy socks, doesn’t mean you’re a different person. You’re still you and I still love you.”

My smile slowly grew as Phil spoke; not even my mum had reacted this well to my condition. Going up on my toes to compensate for the slight height difference and taking Phil’s other hand, I kissed him.

“I love you too Phil,” I whispered, my eyes lighting up with happiness as I looked at Phil, “Thank you.”


End file.
